


Second Chance At First Love

by Devodog



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, Romance, tiny bit angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 19:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11675988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devodog/pseuds/Devodog
Summary: Everyone in Sherlock's life is moving on, making the detective question his own life choices.  He retreats to his childhood cabin at the lake for reflection.  He runs into Oliver, his 'first love'.  Will the two rekindle a childhood romance or has life passed them by.





	1. Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> I answered the second request for A_Strange_Vessel, just because. Sherlock falls in love with a childhood friend, not Victor. This one was more of a challenge, but I enjoyed it. I was inspired by my local reservoir. I didn't research what lakes were like in the fall or what insects, critters might be active. Again, I can't do short. Enjoy.

The lake was calm. No one out on the water. The only sounds was the occasional chatter of the birds. If he stayed out long enough, the call of the katydids would start followed by the crickets. Mother Nature's orchestra. This was the best place in the world to come and think. Especially in the fall when all the tourists were gone. It would be him, the water surrounded by trees and plants. He was fortunate that he had a bit of woodland on his side of the property. It cost him a pretty penny every year, but it was worth it.

He would live here year round if he could. Unfortunately, his work kept him in the city more than he liked. What made it bearable was his best friend, John. Soon he wouldn't have his blogger. 

John's blog caught the notice of an American editor. With some spit and polish, his made his stories into a book. Now he's a big time author, off to the US for a book tour. Sherlock is proud of his friend's accomplishments. With him leaving, it made him think about he direction his own life was going.

It had always been about the work. Never taking time to form any lasting relationships. Now it just seem hollow. He was approaching 40 and not a lot to show for it. Even his brother managed to find his match. DI Lestrade of all people. They were expecting their first child in a couple of months. Mycroft's assistant agreed to be their surrogate.

That's why he was here now. Reflection and to escape his panicky brother. He remembered summers spent here when they were boys. Despite the age difference they had been the best of mates. Playing pirates. Robin Hood. That's how he Oliver. Gods. He hadn't thought about that meeting in years.

He and Mycroft were arguing about who was going to be Robin and who was the Sheriff. Myc had always play the Sheriff, but for some reason he thought they should trade roles once in a while. Then came a voice from up in the tree saying he would be the Sheriff if Mycroft would be Little John. The thought of his brother playing Little John was so funny that he agreed to the disembodied voice. Down from the branches fell a short, mouse of a boy. Oliver. His family was staying in a cabin down the lane from there's. He had been watching them play for the past few days but had finally got the nerve up to talk to them. From that point on, they were inseparable. The Three Musketeers.

Every summer Oliver would be at the lake and the boys would pick up like they were never apart. They had tried to stay in touch during the winter, but school and life in general kept them form every going past the summer friendship.

It wasn't until the last year or two before Mycroft left for uni that things started to change beyond the typical. Oliver and he were in the same year. When Mycroft started spending more time with the older kids, it made sense for the two of them to become even closer.

Some of the comments Oliver would make to him were more intimate. Things regarding looks, muscle size, kissing. Then there were the accidental touches. Brushing of the hands that was almost holding. Rubbing against each other. He had put it down to puberty at the time. Perhaps Oliver was experience his hormones earlier. It had never occurred to him that he would have had actual feelings for him. He had never been goo at that sort of thing.

It was the year after Mycroft left for uni and didn't spend the summer at the lake that it became apparent what Oliver had been hinting at the previous couple of years. Oliver was sitting at their usual spot. A log tucked back in the trees. You could see the lake, but it couldn't be seen from the water. The perfect place to spy on the older couples making out in the boats. 

They had been hanging out, as usual, but when Oliver had asked him to meet him there after their parents had gone to bed. They sometimes would sneak out to spy on the older kids. When he sat down next the boy, he reached over to grab his hand. Before he could say anything, Oliver had leaned over to press their lips together. 

The kiss had lasted only a couple of seconds but was enough to shock both of them. They just sat on the log, holding hands, not speaking. Not sure what to say. It was the fact that Sherlock let him hold his hand that gave Oliver the courage to try again. This time when he leaned towards his friend, he was met half way. He closed his eyes and pressed their lips together. He pushed his tongue against the soft lips and Sherlock let him in. Neither one of them knew what they were doing. Sticking their tongues in each others mouths. Exploring around. It was wet, full of teeth and tongue. When they pulled back a second time, they both looked at each other and giggled.

"I've been wanting to do that for a couple of years now." Oliver whispered.

"Why now?" Sherlock asked.

He shrugged. "Seeings this is my last summer, I figured I better try my luck."

Sherlock dropped the hand he had been holding. "What do you mean, last summer?"

Oliver couldn't or wouldn't meet his gaze. "My da got transferred."

"Where?"

"Washington DC."

Sherlock knew Oliver's father was a diplomat of some sort. Mycorft had been positively giddy when he offered to help him get a start with the British government. He had been surprised to hadn't been sent away sooner.

"Well, then. I guess we shouldn't waste any of our reaming time."

That mad Oliver's eyes shoot up, "Ya mean...."

Sherlock just smiled and pulled his friend back for another kiss.

The rest of the summer was a whirlwind of snogging sessions, hand holding and what could only have been called a 'first love'. They had promised to write each other, call when they could. For a time they did. but life has away of creeping in and they soon lost touch.

Sherlock sat on the deck with his glass of wing. He thought about Oliver on occasion. Reliving his first love. He wondered what ever became of the mousy haired boy. Did he stay in the US? Follow in his father's footsteps? Get married and have a family? Did he ever think of his childhood on the lake? Or the dark haired boy who was his first kiss?

'Sherlock, you're getting sentimental. No one ever gets to have a second chance at their first love.' He told himself, downing the remaining wine in his glass.


	2. Oliver

The following morning, Sherlock walked to their special log. He would visit the spot every time he came to the lake. Another way to feel close to the person who still haunted his dreams. He never ran into anyone so he was mildly surprised to see a brown haired man about his age sitting there.

"Hi, Sherlock" the said without turning around.

He was shocked at being addressed without being seen. There was only one person outside family that could do it. "Oliver?" he didn't mean for the surprise to creep into his voice.

It was then the man turned with a shy smile "Who else would dare sit on our special log?

Sherlock sank down next to him. In a move that was almost identical to one over 20 years ago, he felt his hand grabbed and held. The only thing missing was the quick kiss. There was so much he wanted to ask. He wasn't sure where to even start.

"I've been down here every day for the past week hoping you would come. Then I saw you arrive yesterday. I was hoping today would be my lucky day." Oliver kept sneaking shy little glances over at him.

Sherlock kept his gaze lock on the tanned fingers laced with his own. He was still coming to terms with the fact he was actually holding the hand of the person he fantasized about for the last 20 years.

"I never stopped think a bout you. I even tried to fin you once or twice." Oliver continued.

"It shouldn't have been to difficult. Sherlock Holmes isn't that common of a name." Why was he being so rude. This is Oliver. The one that ruined you for any one else, thought Sherlock.

"I know. I didn't try very hard. Afraid of what I might find." he replied sheepishly.

He looked directly at his friend for the first time. He should be talking more. He wanted to see him again, and now that he has, he can't To afraid. Of what? All the signs are there. "You found me." Sherlock said quietly.

Oliver had thought about how this reunion would go. He would boldly stride up to the man of his dreams. Grab him firmly in his arms. Kiss him soundly and declare his undying love. Sherlock, who had been pinning for him all these years would fall into his arms and t hey would live happily ever after.

Reality bites, he thought. Sherlock wasn't letting anything show. He had always been like that. He was still holding his hand. There might still be hope. He wanted to be bold. "Come on, Oliver. Be bold. You can do this." he told himself. He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to those perfect lips. Before he could pull back, he found himself crushed against a firm chest. Sherlock's lips demanding entrance. He wrapped his arms around the slender waist. Opened his lips to let Sherlock in. Their tongues met in a desperate embrace. Searching each other's mouth. Relearning each others taste, texture. Not so unlike their first kiss 20 years prior, it was mess and unsure. As quick as it stared, it was over. The men separated limbs, but refused to relinquish each others hands.

"Still bold as ever." Sherlock grinned.

Oliver grinned back. "Figures I better take the chance while I had it."

"Did you find what you were looking for?" he asked.

"Maybe."

Sherlock raised his eyebrow in question. Oliver just laughed. Feeling confident after their kiss, he decided to plunge ahead. "I hoped to find you again so we I could sweep you off your feet. Pick up where we left off all those years ago. Pretend we had never been apart."

Sherlock could a gape. He couldn't be serious. "Oliver it's been over 20 years. I'm not the same person. We might not even like each other now."

He looked hurt. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about us over the years. Haven't thought about the 'what ifs'." Oliver could tell by his companions expression and body language that he had. Even after all these years, he could still read Sherlock. "All I'm asking is a chance to reconnect. To explore some of the 'what ifs'.

Sherlock though about it. He came here to reflect. Than man of his dreams suddenly appeared and wants to reconnect. What are the odds? It can't be coincidence. The universe isn't so lazy. Yet it seems to convenient. Maybe this is he second chance.

"Sherlock! Stop over thinking it. I"m here for the next four weeks. Give us a chance." Oliver cupped his cheek, "please."

Sherlock nuzzled into the warm hand, savoring the tender touch. He turned to place a kiss on the palm. "Let's go back to my cabin."


	3. First Date

Over the next few hours the two friends laughed and talked like it was yesterday. Remembering stories from their childhood. Sharing stories from their days at university and beyond. Oliver was struggling with the idea of Mycroft settling down and becoming a father.

"He was always such a stuffed shirt. I figured it would always be career first with him." he said. 

"It had been until he finally got his head out of his arse and realized the love of his life had been staring him the face for the last three years."

"Who was it?

"A gentleman that I work with and Mycroft also had some dealing with him."

"Get to be our age and you realize that half your life's gone and there's no one there to share your triumphs or tribulations. You have to decide if you want to continue on like usual and hope someone comes along or do grow a pair and find the one that you want." Oliver commented, sipping his beer.

Sherlock didn't reply. It wasn't necessary. Oliver had described his situation exactly. Perhaps this is what he is looking for. What he needs.

The day had slowly crept by without either of them noticing until shadows started creeping across the deck. Oliver was the first to notice the late hour. "Where did the day go?" he cried. "Let me take you dinner, Sherlock. We've played catch-up. Let's star on a 'what if'."

Sherlock gazed at his friend. The day had been lovely. It was obvious they still got along. The pause was making Oliver nervous. He hadn't considered the possibility that he may not be out. "Do you not go out? I mean, we can go to a pub, casual like, if you want." Oliver stuttered.

Sherlock grinned at his friend. So bold one moment, shy the next. He had almost forgotten how endearing it was. "I have no problems going on a date. I never had a need to hide." He saw the man visibly relax. "Do you still know the area?"

"Ah. No. I haven't been back here for a few years. Let's do this. I'll go back to my place to clean up. Meet your back here in about an hour. You pick the place. My treat." Oliver suggested.

"Make it an hour half." Sherlock replied watching his friend walk down the road. Whistling to himself he cleaned up their mess on the deck. He couldn't believe how luck he was. He just hopped this wasn't some random. fluke. He paused. "No. It's my turn to be happy," he said to no one.

*****

The two men were seated next to the window overlooking the garden. It was still warm enough for the fairy lights to be on. Creating a romantic atmosphere for guest to enjoy as they waited for their table. In the summer months, the garden was an extension of the dinning room.

Oliver suggested a walk while they waited for their meal to arrive. They held hands as they lazily strolled the path. 

"Why now? Why here?" asked Sherlock.

Oliver didn't answer for a bit. "Sherlock, we're 38 years old. We're starting to get up there, ya know. I thought by now I'd have a husband, a family. Every guy I'd meet, just wasn't the one. They weren't clever enough or tall enough. They either talked to much, or not not all. Subconsciously, I was comparing them to you." He stopped and pulled him in close. "I still want a husband and family while I'm young enough to enjoy them. I decide to quite looking for a replacement and find the original. " Oliver confessed, staring into the ever changing eyes. Trying to impress his meaning on the other man.

Sherlock dropped his gaze. "Our dinner will be waiting for us. We should go before it get's cold."

Dinner passed with out any further reference to the conversation in the garden. The atmosphere wasn't as tense as Sherlock anticipated. He was completely taken back by Oliver's declaration. He needed time to process the meaning and how he should react to it. He was impressed by his friends ability to act like nothing happened. "It's getting late and I promised to check in with my friend before his first big interview." Sherlock hinting that they should be leaving.

"Ah, yes. Dr. Watson. Just made the New York Best Seller's list. Making quite a name for himself."

"You've read his book?" Sherlock asked, hoping he hadn't. He didn't want Oliver to know what he did just yet. He had been careful not to mention the specifics of his consultations. He wanted his friend to remember the old him. The one who still knew how to have fun. Who still could show sentiment without fear of it being used against him.

"Adventures With A Madman. Saw it in the airport gift shop. Not my usual read. Sounds good, though from the back cover." Oliver commented. He could tell his friend was anxious when he brought up the book. He still had the same tells after all these years. He knew Sherlock was avoiding discussing his life work. At first he couldn't think of why. For all intents, he was a pompous show-off. If your were to believe the stories. Yes, he did read the book. He also lied about not knowing where he was. He had been keeping tabs on this man for years. Waiting until the time was right. He couldn't tell him that of course. I t would scare him off. As it was, he was trying to ignore his suspicions. He only hopped when the found out the truth, he didn't lose him.

Sherlock studied the man next to him. He had read John's book. Why was he lying? Was this a game/ God's he hopped not. He would just have to go along and see what developed. "Shall we?" he asked, standing up.

Oliver smirked and stood, straightening his jacket. Placing a hand on the small of Sherlock's back, he escorted him back to the car.

Oliver walked Sherlock to the door. Both men acted like teenagers on their first date. To kiss or not to kiss. The danced around the elephant until they burst into giggles at the absurdity of it all. Sherlock pulled Oliver into this arms and kissed him goodnight. It was a simple kiss, just a hugging of the lips. 

"Meet me at our sop tomorrow at 8:00. We'll make a day of it." With a last peck on the lips, Sherlock went into the cabin, leaving Oliver sanding, staring at the wooden door. A grin broke across his face. He whistled a happy tune all the way home.


	4. Second Date

Sherlock arrived at their meeting spot early. He liked to see the fog rise off the water and listen to the birds as they work for the day. He spoke with John last night. Wished him luck on his interview. He told him about Oliver. Not everything, there hadn't been time. John thought it wonderful his best friend ran into an old flame. Told he to go for it and would call later to swap stories.

It felt good to have his friends support. John knew a little about his past with Liver. Not that he still thought about him on a regular basis or longed to have him as his own. He wondered what his friends would think if he came back from his hiatus with a lover. What would Mycroft think? Probably, 'It's about time." He smiled at the thought.

Sherlock planned a day exploring the village. Visiting some of the old favorites that were still around, as well as some of his new favorites. If all went as planned, there would be dinner at the cabin followed by a possible snogging session.

"I hope that smile's for me? Oliver said as he sat next to his friend. "You know, I kinda remember this log being bigger."

Sherlock gazed fondly at his friend. Smiling at the fact that they were sitting hip to hip. He leaned over and gave him a kiss, surprising the other man. "It is."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, enjoying being in each other's company. The sun was above the trees when Oliver drew the dark haired man up with him and enveloped him in a tight bear hug. Sherlock's arms immediately coming around the others waist, squeezing back. His friend pulled back enough o place a sloppy smooch on the other mouth.

"I've though of nothing else, last night. An entire day with my old friend. Lead on."

Sherlock giggled at the his friend's enthusiasm. He felt the same way.

The day went better than either could have imagined. They laughed and teased like they were teenagers again. Those people who knew Sherlock were amazed at his antics. He was usually so reserved. The old timers smiled indulgently at the love they could see being rekindled. One even commented the she knew, even as children, they were meant to be together.

That evening Oliver helped Sherlock fix dinner. They moved around the kitchen like they had been doing it for years. The weather was mild enough that they were able to eat on the deck. When the meal was done, they sat in companionable silence, listening to the gentle lapping of water on the shore. The song of the crickets and other nocturnal creatures. Sherlock pulled out his violin and play counter point to natures song.

Oliver hadn't realized that his friend was such a talented musician. He sort of remember he played when they were kids, but he never got to hear him until tonight. How he could support the natures sounds with out taking over was incredible.

The song ended on a sigh of a breeze. Sherlock dropped his instrument to his side and looked at his friend. He saw the amazement and love on his face. The smaller man rose from his seat and took the bow and violin from his hands and set them gently on the table. Sherlock reached for Oliver and pulled him into a passionate kiss. An arm wrapped around the small of his back, the other cradled the back of his head, fingers tangling in the brown strands. Oliver's arms slid up Sherlock's sides, under his arms to hold him by the shoulders. Fingers toying with the dark curls at the base of his neck. 

Their lips caressed each others. Tongues exploring the hot caverns that was each others mouths. Learning each one's taste. As the kiss deepened, hands started to roam and explore. Oliver pulled Sherlock closer. Their bodies flush against each other. He was only an inch or so shorter, so their hips lined up perfectly. They could feel the evidence of their growing arousal. 

Sherlock let out a soft groan when Oliver tentatively pressed their hips together. He wanted to hear the beautiful sound again. He gripped the taller man's hips and pulled him in tighter. His hand sliding around to grip the firm arse he had been admiring all night. He stroked and squeezed the taunt globes. Rubbing his erection against the others, trying to ease the growing ache. The sensation released sounds of pleasure from both en.

Sherlock was the first pull back. "How far do you want to take this?" he panted slightly out of breath from their kisses.

Oliver continued to place kitten kisses along the pale neck before answering. "We better stop now, while we can. I want you so much, but I need for you to want me back. I want more than just sex. " Oliver told him. Pleading for him to understand.

Sherlock stepped away and let the small man go. He wasn't sure what to think. Oliver watch his friend retreat into his mind. He always did that when hew became unsure. It was one of the things that he loved about him. He just had to have patience. "Sherlock, meet me at my cabin for lunch. Okay?" Sherlock came back to focus and nodded his agreement. Oliver placed a soft kiss on his cheek and left. Sherlock collected his violin and went inside. 

He didn't sleep that night. He spent the time thinking about Oliver. He had all but said he loved him and wanted to have a family with him. He needed to be sure it was for himself and not the 'madman'. He knew he was already falling back in love with his friend. He just had to devise a plan to make sure their feelings were based on reality of the here and now.


	5. Elephant In The Room

At lunch Sherlock confronted Oliver about the book. He had the decency to blush over his deception. He confess to following Sherlock's adventures on John's blog and how he contacted his brother-in-law to find out where he would be.

"I wanted to be sure you were unencumbered. There had always been speculations about the true nature of your friendship with Dr. Watson. I didn't wan't to interfere, if it had been true. When he left for America and you didn't, I thought my chance had come. I didn't know Lestrade was married to Myc. I suspect he wouldn't have been so forth coming with the information if he hadn't consulted with Mycroft first." he admitted.

Sherlock wasn't really surprised by any of this. He had begun to suspect it from snippets of conversations they had had. Comment that were made about thins he should have known.

Actually it was a relief to have all of this in the open. Now they could proceed on equal footing. Neither one hiding. They agreed not to let the physical aspect of their attraction interfere. They were determined to see if what they felt was truly for themselves and not on memories or stories. Then they could decide if it was real.

Over the next couple of weeks the friend explored the village, took quiet walks in the woods, rediscovered the joys of board games, and even tried their hands at fishing. They swore they would never speak of that adventure again.

The more time they spent together, the harder it was to par ways at night. They knew they were falling in love. Not the innocent version of youth, but to deep lasting kind that comes with experience. Of having been friends first. Basing it on interests and companionship, not sex. As their feeling deepened, so did their desire to express it on a more physical level.

It was coming close to the end of their 'vacation romance', as they liked to call it. There were only four days left until both had to return to the real world. Oliver for all his pretense of being a jet setting playboy, was the CEO of his families philanthropic organization.

They had spent the morning hiking through the woods and were back sitting Sherlock's deck. The cold air coming off the water allowed them to light the fire bowl for extra warmth. Sherlock even brought out some of the old quilts that had been in the cabin since his youth. 

They had never discussed the elephant, but it was always there in some form or another. Whether it was a touch, or a comment. Sherlock was aware of what his friend wanted of him. The men settled themselves in the Adirondack chairs with their drinks and blankets, trying to gather the courage to broach the subject.

"Sherlock/Oliver" They said at the same time. Both laughed tensely. "You first, Sherlock."

Sherlock gazed fondly at his friend. The last weeks proved to him that this man was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He had never been good at express sentiment, so he was hesitant to start .

"Oliver. On our first date, you told me that you were wanting someone to have a family with. That you were searching for an original."

Oliver's heart started to speed up. Did he dare hop this meant what he thought it did. He managed to keep his voice steady as he answered. "That's correct."

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Sherlock kept his eyes locked onto Oliver.

"Yes." Oliver's heart leaped. He realized this was his friends way of confirming his feelings. He always had to be sure of the outcome before he would confess.

The detective processed this information. How like his friend to answer only to what had been asked. Giving nothing else away. He had been correct in his deductions. Oliver was in love with him. That he was the one he had been searching for.

"Oliver. I. I think....I know..I love you." he stammered, with a shy smile.

Oliver planted himself in Sherlock's lap. He grabbed the dark curls an pulled him in for a passion filled kiss. Sherlock wrapped his arms around his waist and lost himself in the feeling of his friends lips against his own.

They separated enough to catch their breath. Their faces mere inches apart.

"Marry me!" Oliver gasped before he lost his nerve.

Sherlock could only stare at him. The wasn't expected.

"Sherlock, we've know each other since we were nine years old. These last few weeks have been the best of my life. They prove that we still love each other. Why wait any longer?" 

There wasn't an answer from the detective. He just gazed at his friend, trying to process this new development. The silence scared the smaller man. "Marry me. We can get a puppy first, if you want. See what kind of dads we would be. I just want you. I love you." Oliver pleaded, cradling his friend's face gently.

Sherlock focused on the face of his friend. Saw the plea in his face. He gave Oliver a smile that lit his entire face. "Yes. I'll marry you." he replied, leaning in for the first kiss as an engaged man.

They could work the logistics out later. He came to the lake to find answers. He found them and more. The lake that had played an integral par of his life had given him a gift. The gift of lasting love. It had given him Oliver.

 

Fin


End file.
